


May the rain cleanse you [of blood and sorrow]

by AwNN



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - BDSM, Forced Marriage, M/M, Marriage Hunt, Senju Tobirama Needs a Hug, Submissives and dominants, Tajima and Tobirama are the main paring but Izu and Mada will be there too, Uchiha and my take on their traditions, dom!Izuna, dom!Madara, dom!Tajima, rape behind the scenes, sub!Tobirama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:54:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,060
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26396728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwNN/pseuds/AwNN
Summary: “We will not hurt you more than your father already did.”Another lightning tore through the sky, bathing the clearing in white-blue light and everyone tensed, chakra at the ready in the anticipation of the thunder. Tajima lifted his hand from the wet white hair and took a step back, counting in his head: one, two, three, four, five.Six.The thunder shook the skies.Tobirama ran.OR: Senju Butsuma giving his failure of a second son up for politics and the Uchiha having better morals than their sworn enemies. Tobirama has never been so scared in his life but then again, he could have figured it out that even in such terrible moments an Uchiha will be able to bamboozle the heck out of him. Tobirama would like to have his mother back, like, yesterday.
Relationships: Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Clan, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Izuna, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Tajima
Comments: 19
Kudos: 271





	May the rain cleanse you [of blood and sorrow]

**Author's Note:**

> my take on marriage hunt AU and giving the Uchiha fun traditions. I'm not sure if I will continue this as it was a spur of a moment kind of fic and I am dying under my workload. But I wanted to write it, I wrote it and now you may enjoy it!
> 
> Tobirama is 15 yo.  
> Izuna is 17, Madara 19, Tajima, and Butsuma are both 40.

The spring rainstorm was upon them, the heavens crying for the sons and daughters lost to winter’s chilling bite and merciless claws, for the deaths of despair, and most of all, for all the warrior’s souls, sacrificed on the battlefields of the past year. The rain and the wind were summoned by the gods themselves, to wash the blood off the soil and to herald the new beginning.

It was auspicious, to hunt for a submissive bride during the first spring rainstorm when the thunders would mix with the screams and the heavy rain would wash all the blood, sweat and semen off the naked bodies. Although the Senju preferred to hunt in mid-summer, on the hottest day of the year, exposing their bodies to the scorching sun and their feet to burning earth, the Uchiha were not only creatures of fire, but of lightning as well. Their blood sang with each strike that tore through the dark skies, with each thunder vibrating through the world. The rain did nothing to hinder their red eyes, the cold did nothing to chill their eager bodies.

“Incoming,” Izuna sing-sang, his voice brimming with poorly hidden excitement. He was jumping from one foot to the other, his bare feet slapping the mud left and right, but as soon as the dirt landed on the fair skin, it was washed away by the rain. His chakra, usually reminiscent of a slow-burning furnace, was a bubbling pit of lava, ready to erupt and swallow everything in its path.

“It’s unlike you, son,” Tajima snorted, looking at his second child, so eager and ready for the main event of the night. “It’s not your first hunt.”

Izuna had the audacity to look at his father as if he spurted a second head, or decided to die his hair neon-pink. Even Madara, who so far managed to stand still, an unmoving statue in the midst of their overenergetic clan, looked at his father with exasperation.

“Oh, fair enough, brats,” Tajima rolled his eyes and then shoved Izuna with his shoulder, unbalancing him and watching with amusement as his son flapped his arms to keep from slipping and landing in the mud. Madara huffed.

Before anyone could say anything more on the matter – and most importantly before Izuna could enact his revenge and push his poor old father into the mud – the brightest lightning of the night pierced the sky, illuminating the arrival of the three foreign shinobi. The Uchiha were able to catch sight of Senju Butsuma, Senju Touka, and most importantly, Senju Tobirama before the darkness swallowed them back. With Sharingan on, though, it was easy to see how their soon-to-be prey was pushed to his knees, blood, and dirt stubbornly clinging to his white face and hair, despite the rain.

“Our end of the bargain, Uchiha!” Butsuma roared and just as the thunder rolled through the clouds, the man gave the last, harsh push against his second son’s head and took off to the trees. Senju Toka stood over her cousin for a second longer, not sparing the Uchiha a glance, then, between one blink and another, she was gone, too.

Senju Tobirama was left kneeling in the mud, naked and injured more than the Uchiha expected him to be.

“Of course they wouldn’t give us a virgin,” Mukuro, one of the most skilled trackers in the clan complained, but everyone could pick up on the concern in his voice.

“We should probably change our plans, father,” Madara found himself suggesting, red eyes focused on the shivering form of his best friend’s last brother. If it was Izuna, given up as a war trophy or bargained for food, or even married of for an alliance to a friendly clan, Madara would not stand to see him in such poor condition. Then again, there was a reason no Uchiha could stand a Senju. They were all monsters, even Hashirama, for allowing this.

“All right,” Tajima nodded in consent. “Keep in mind his injuries. Don’t engage if you don’t have to and let's herd him straight towards our compound.”

A chorus of _yes, sir_ breached the sound of rain, loud enough for Senju Tobirama to pick up on. His whole body froze for a second, going completely still before the shivers started again, double the force. Tajima shunshinned next to the boy and kept his face emotionless at the White Demon’s full-body flinch.

“Look at me child,” he commanded, his voice loud enough for his clansmen to hear clearly. Tobirama took a moment to obey the order. When he raised his head, Tajima could see the split lip, the blackened eye, and bruised left cheek. His neck, too, had skin whiter than milk marred by the marks of Senju Butsuma’s hands and the rest of the boy’s body did not fare better.

Yet, the red eyes met his own, even in soul rocking fear.

“I, Uchiha Tajima, Uchiha Clan Head, hereby announce our intention to hunt you, Senju. We were given permission by your father and your Clan Head and once we catch you, you will become a servant of our clan. May the gods in heaven witness our hunt and light our path. May the first rain of spring cleanse you and prepare you for your new life.”

His voice boomed over the clearing and once the last sentence reached his clansmen, Tajima smiled at the excited howling and whistling that his family responded with. Their chakra brimmed with excitement, with the need to _run and track and hunt._ Even Madara could not contain himself any longer, his massive aura shadowing over the other Uchiha and completely focused on their prey.

Senju Tobirama fell into a kow-tow again, trembling.

 _Ah,_ Tajima thought with a sudden realization, _wasn’t Butsuma’s second a sensor?_ But that didn’t matter much, now. Whether the boy could sense his family coming for him was inconsequential, as naked and injured, he would not be able to escape them. He would not be allowed to escape them, as the duty now bound him to the Uchiha.

Tajima kneeled next to the boy and reached out a hand to put on his wet hair. Tobirama froze underneath him, holding his breath.

“You will run when the next thunder sounds,” he said, only for the Senju to hear. “We will hunt you and when we catch you, we will claim you.”

After a moment of reflection, he sighed, and added in a much softer voice:

“We will not hurt you more than your father already did.”

Another lightning tore through the sky, bathing the clearing in white-blue light, and everyone tensed, chakra at the ready in the anticipation of the thunder. Tajima lifted his hand from the wet white hair and took a step back, counting in his head: _one, two, three, four, five._

Six.

The thunder shook the skies.

Tobirama ran.

000

Tobirama would have hated the water if he had time for anything but blinding panic, that twisted his stomach and kept stealing his breath. His jumbled thoughts couldn’t focus on anything concrete, couldn’t come up with a plan to avoid the shinobi on his tail – there was nothing for him but to run in the direction where there was less foreign chakra waiting for him.

A part of him knew he was being corralled and herded where the Uchiha wanted him, but he couldn’t think of a way out. His heart kept hammering in his chest faster than ever before, faster even than when his fa—when Butsuma decided not to give the Uchiha his _virgin_ son.

His legs still shook under him, too weak to fully support his weight in the aftermath of –

Tobirama slipped on the muddy earth and landed on his knees and elbows, a sob tearing our of his throat. The only redeeming quality of the pouring rain was that it hid his tears well enough. His sobs, not so much.

 _Get it together, stand up!_ He begged in his own mind, but his body was too exhausted, too shocked to obey his will. He kept sobbing into the dirt, shaking and whatever advantage he gained in the first hour of the hunt, was lost.

Madara caught up to him first but did not approach closer than ten meters. Izuna and Tajima were next, and after that, the place filled with Uchiha, a dozen more men who longed to catch him. Tobirama couldn’t breathe.

They didn’t surround him completely, he realized after much longer that he wanted to admit. They were waiting for him to stand up and run again. But how could he? How could he stand up and run when he knew he could never escape them? That they would catch him again, bring him down on all four and do what fa—what Butsuma did. Again and again and again –

He never cried so desperately in his life before. Stark naked and keening in the mud.

Someone whistled, the sound piercing through the hum of heavy rain.

“Come on, kitten, you can do it!”

A moment of silence and then more people whistled, someone clapped their hands and Tobirama felt his fear mixed with confusion. What was happening? Were they mocking him? Were they taunting? What else did they want from him? He was down, unable to run anymore, open for claiming. He choked on a sob, shoulders trembling as he shook his head. He couldn’t.

“You did so well, Senju!” Someone else shouted.

“Get up, get up!”

“On your feet, little one!”

They were outright cheering now, all these men, their chakra still as oppressive with their excitement and lust for the hunt as before. But Tobirama couldn’t comprehend what was happening. He wanted to yell at them that he couldn’t, that his legs wouldn’t carry him even a meter further, that he couldn’t breathe, that all he wanted was to go home but he had no home.

A chakra signature broke the circle and approached him, slowly, with steps loud enough in the rain for Tobirama to hear too. The energy was too familiar for him not to remember. His battlefield rival, Izuna, was soon crouching only feet next to him.

“Run, Tobirama, you can do it,” Izuna said and his voice was nothing like Tobirama expected. It was firm, as any dominant’s voice was bound to be, but there was no anger there, no lust. Just confidence and something else, something Tobirama couldn’t quite place.

“Can’t,” he managed to choke out, bending down in the mud, feeling as the raindrops danced on his naked skin. “Can’t move.”

“Yes you can,” Izuna was still there, not moving any closer. “Stand up, Tobirama, and walk. One step at a time.”

What was the point?! Tobirama wanted to scream, wanted to beg the Uchiha to end this farce, to finally claim him and let him pass out. But for some reason the dominants around him wanted him to run, were encouraging him to, and Tobirama didn’t want to find out what would happen if he refused a direct command. Not when Izuna, a second heir, gave it so clearly.

His muscles protested at every movement, but he grit his teeth and let his own, fluttering, unsure chakra enhance his body. He had so little left and what he had, he struggled to hold, too distraught to properly focus – but he had to. He had to stand up and so he did, on shaking legs, like the first steps of a new-born calf.

“That’s it!” “Good!” “Yes, Senju, yes!” “One more step!”

The Uchiha kept cheering, Izuna’s voice mixing with his clansmen’s, and Tobirama felt his hot tears flow down his cheeks, along with the cold rain. He was so lost, so confused, _why?_ But he made a few more shaky steps before his shinobi instincts kicked in again and he started to run.

They followed, of course, and the hunt began anew.

“To the left, little one!”

There was an Uchiha, one he did not recognize, on his left, reaching out to hit his side and Tobirama’s breath hitched – he had no energy to spare and avoid a direct attack like that – but before he could properly panic about that, the Uchiha’s hand was on his side, yet instead of pain, he simply felt a firm touch. The man was pushing him to the left. Herding him towards more of his clansmen.

The helplessness bubbled inside of him and before he could stop himself, another sob tore itself into the world, getting lost in the ever-present sound of rain. Another lightning brightened the night and Tobirama leaped to the left, putting what he had of his chakra into the jump. His foot landed on a tree branch, but he couldn’t muster enough energy to stick to the wet bark and when the thunder rumbled above, he was falling down. He closed his eyes, praying for a swift end when strong arms caught him mid-air.

“Careful, now, wild kitten.”

Tobirama opened his eyes only to meet Madara’s Sharingan. Breath caught in his throat, a shiver of fear running down his spine – out of everyone here, Madara was the man he feared most, second only to his father, of whom stories Tobirama heard since he was a child.

“Hush,” Madara stopped to a halt and set him down, then pushed at his back, careful not to press on the red, bleeding welts Butsuma left there. “Go on, you’re almost there.”

 _Where?_ Tobirama wanted to ask, wanted to beg for answers, and for mercy and for the end of this exhausting night. How long was a human heart capable of beating so fast? How much fear could a single soul withstand? But they wanted Tobirama to move, so he moved. With the rain obscuring his vision and no chakra left to enhance his muscles or his senses, he kept stumbling through the night. Cold, shivering, and exhausted and yet, unable to stop crying.

 _He wanted his mother back so much it hurt._ Wanted nothing more but to bury himself in her warm hugs and listen to her soft voice singing a soft, gentle tune. She was always so kind to him, so understanding, so welcoming. He was her precious child and her love was what got him through the harsh training and his father’s expectations. He wanted to hide in her skirts again.

“Just a little bit more, Tobirama,” Izuna was at his side again, to the left and when he looked to the right, he found Madara looking at him with his red, monstrous eyes. Uchiha Tajima was just a couple steps behind him, and further back, the rest of the hunting party. They were silent though, no more whistling and howling and cheering and clapping and touching Tobirama to redirect his path.

“Good boy, one more step, that’s it.” Madara’s hand was on his arm now, big and warm, and keeping part of his weight up, supporting him. Why were they praising him? Why weren’t they bending his body to their will? Why? Why? WHY?

They stepped into a clearing, then into a road that led – Tobirama could barely see it through the rain, but when another lightning seared through the dark clouds, the Uchiha compound stood in contrast to the white light. A large, wooden gate was open and Tobirama could see even more of the Uchiha, as naked as the hunting party, moving in the rain. Bodies dancing, touching each other, singing songs completely foreign to him.

One step at a time, Tobirama made his way towards them, the sight so obscure and unexpected, he forgot his fear for a precious few moments. Too stunned to fully realize the danger he was in, he watched as men and women, young and old, moved their bodies, blissful, excited, _happy._ Black and red eyes were looking at him, sharp, white teeth smiling as they danced and cheered. One by one, the members of their hunting party were plucked by their clansmen and dragged into kisses or hugs or dances or --- there were children too, running and laughing in the rain and paying Tobirama no attention whatsoever.

Another lightning, then thunder, and the Uchiha seemed to be revigorated, laughing and yelling their blessings and prayers. Tobirama felt as if he was dreaming, as if he was transported into a different world, one where the red-eyed demons ruled the world and worshipped the god of storms in their wildness.

Gentle, warm hands kept pushing him until he reached the biggest house in the compound. He was herded through the open doors, inside, then through the corridor to the bedroom. Something screamed at the back of his mind, fear rose within him, so strong that he could almost feel it in his _bones_ , but at the same time, he felt weirdly detached. He was aware of a pair of hands that wrapped him in warm towels and of another pair that brushed through his hair with warm, fire chakra to dry them. Someone was speaking to him in a calm, low voice but he couldn’t understand a thing.

Uchiha Tajima was standing in front of him, tilting his head up by the chin and then, putting a collar around his neck. Tobirama wanted to scream and cry and fight but there was nothing left in him except exhaustion. The man that was every Senju’s nightmare cupped his cheek in his warm hand and bent for a kiss. Yet, instead of unwanted lips on his lips, the kiss landed on his forehead. A murmured praise later, Tobirama was guided onto the futon and all that he could think then was how warm it was.

The sheets and the cover and the blanket on top of it and most importantly, the naked body that joined him seconds later. A pang of ice-cold fear made him shiver when those strong arms wrapped around him – a fleeting memory of Butsuma’s hands almost made him throw up, but then, warm, welcoming, protective chakra washed through his system and Tobirama was too tired to fight it. Too tired to be afraid anymore.

He let out one last sob, looking at the red eyes of Uchiha Tajima, at his new _master,_ and let the man embrace him.

_We will not hurt you more than your father already did._

Tobirama fell asleep praying that it wasn’t a lie.


End file.
